


Christmas Wish (or fantasy?)

by servecobwebheadaches



Category: Panic! at the Disco
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Top!Ryan, bottom!Brendon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-25
Updated: 2019-12-25
Packaged: 2021-02-26 07:00:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21959254
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/servecobwebheadaches/pseuds/servecobwebheadaches
Summary: Maybe, Brendon thinks, that’s what Ryan wants—from earlier that night, he wanted to have seen him try on the thong and stockings.  Just the thought of it made Ryan act different.  That must be it, Brendon decides. Ryan got turned on by the idea of him in lingerie, and he’s just too bashful to admit it.  Of course he is.And all of a sudden, Brendon knows exactly what he wants to do for Ryan for his Christmas present this year.
Relationships: Ryan Ross/Brendon Urie
Comments: 5
Kudos: 30





	Christmas Wish (or fantasy?)

**Author's Note:**

> I have not slept much to finish this so please call out any mistakes. merry christmas :)

Pete’s hosting a label-wide holiday party, and Brendon RSVPs for himself and Ryan the moment the invitations go out.

Ryan spends the whole day leading up to the party trying to decide what to wear. Brendon wears a t-shirt and black jeans, knowing there’s no need to dress up for any reason, but Ryan keeps on fretting about it.

“This is just because you’re still all star-struck about Pete and you want him to think you’re cute, isn’t it?” Brendon asks, smirking.

“No, shut up,” Ryan snaps, as he pulls off his shirt to change his outfit. Again.

Brendon giggles.

“I just don’t want you to be embarrassed to be seen with me,” Ryan says.

“Baby, you have no idea how proud I am to be with you,” Brendon says, approaching Ryan to give him a kiss on the cheek. “And besides, Pete thinks you’re prettier than I am, anyway.”

“Well, he’s wrong, and I still don’t know what to wear.”

Brendon looks around the closet for a moment. “Oh, just put on jeans and wear—” he pulls a Rolling Stones shirt off a hanger—“this.”

Ryan points at him. “But then we’d be matching.”

In order to remember what he’s wearing, Brendon looks down at himself, and of course Ryan’s right—he’s wearing a Rolling Stones tee already. But the idea of the two of them showing up to the party, as a couple, in matching outfits makes a home for itself in Brendon’s head, and he smiles. “We could totally go matching, that would be so fun.”

“But that’s not very festive,” Ryan huffs.

Brendon perks up even more. “Then we should get matching Christmas sweaters! Come on, put on the shirt, and let’s go buy some before we’re late,” Brendon says.

To his delight, Ryan complies and drives them to the nearest Target. Brendon dashes in and out of the store by himself, buying two of the first Christmas-themed sweaters he sees, paying little mind to any of the details.

“That was fast,” Ryan says, when Brendon gets back to the car. “Please tell me you didn’t buy anything too obnoxious.”

Brendon pouts. “But then that wouldn’t be any fun.”

Ryan sighs and shakes his head when he sees the sweater Brendon picked out. It’s candy cane pattered, bright red, and has the words, ‘Ho Ho Ho,’ written on the front in green glitter. Ryan puts it on anyway, and Brendon swears he pulls it off better than anyone else possibly could, somehow managing to make it look sexy.

“Alright, you put it on, you promised we’d be matching,” Ryan tells him.

Brendon does so, after Ryan starts driving, and almost instantly regrets it. The wool fabric is incredibly itchy, and seems to get worse the longer it touches his skin. “Is this bothering you?” Brendon asks Ryan, reaching over to pluck at some of the wool around Ryan’s chest.

Ryan shrugs. “Not really, why?”

“It’s just so itchy.”

“You don’t have to wear it, B, we both have extra shirts.”

“Yes I do. This is not up for debate,” Brendon insists, “we will be the most festive couple there.”

“We sure will,” Ryan laughs.

Entering the party, they attract attention. Brendon feels proud, but with each comment he gets about the sweaters, he doesn’t hesitate to complain about how uncomfortable it is. They’re talking to Pete when Brendon says, “I would literally rather be wearing anything else, oh my god.”

“Oh, you mean like those shirts we have in the car?” Ryan responds.

“But that’s so boring,” Brendon whines.

“See, Ryan, he means like anything that would get people to look at him,” Pete says.

“As if people don’t look at him all the time anyway,” Ryan mumbles.

“You could just go shirtless, you know. Make this party a little sexier,” Pete says, with a not-so-subtle flirtatious wink.

Brendon bites his lip and says, “But maybe that’s not sexy enough.” He can practically feel the jealousy radiating off of Ryan, and it amuses him to no end.

“Well, rumor has it,” Gabe interjects, “Pete has at least one thong and a pair of stockings stolen from a stripper. I bet he’d let you borrow them at any time, Brennybear.”

“A thong would be heaven compared to this sweater,” Brendon laughs.

“Okay, I’m going to the car to get you a shirt now,” Ryan says, voice low. His lips suddenly feel closer to Brendon’s ear.

“What, are you saying you’d complain if I wore Pete’s thong? I don’t think you would,” Brendon says, still laughing.

Ryan rolls his eyes and coughs awkwardly like he always does when he wants to change the subject, and with that, he walks out of the room.

Brendon keeps himself occupied with Pete and Gabe while Pete tells the story of stealing the lingerie while Ryan’s gone. He changes shirts when Ryan comes back, secretly relieved—and pleasantly surprised Ryan keeps his sweater on—and conversation moves on. Usually, at parties like these, Brendon and Ryan will wander apart, only reconvening when they decide to leave, but tonight, Ryan doesn’t leave Brendon’s side. Brendon doesn’t even think of complaining or saying anything about it; he’s so pleased. Ryan keeps an arm wrapped around him, and Brendon only nestles into the touch. It’s rare for Ryan to be publicly affectionate with him, always so shy, private, and composed, but tonight, they’re attached at the hip.

Every now and then, Ryan sneaks a kiss or two onto his neck, and it turns Brendon on a little more each time. Pete may be right; he may be a sucker for public attention, but he loves the intimate attention from Ryan above all.

After being there for a few hours, Brendon debates with himself out loud about whether or not he should drink something stronger than beer. To this, Ryan raises a new suggestion—“What do you think about just going home instead?”

Brendon abruptly puts down his beer and takes Ryan’s hand. “Sounds good to me.”

By the time they get home, Ryan’s all over him. Before Brendon knows it, he’s naked on his bed, legs spread, cock hard and leaking. Ryan hasn’t wasted any time teasing him, and Brendon has to admit it feels good to have Ryan acting so desperate for him. It is unusual though, so as Ryan’s sucking a hickey onto his hipbone, Brendon asks, “What’s gotten into you? You’ve been so . . .  _ clingy _ since Gabe started talking to me.”

“I just want to make sure you know how good you look, baby boy. All the time,” Ryan says. The head of his cock presses against Brendon’s thigh.

“Even in an ugly Christmas sweater?”

“Uh-huh,” Ryan confirms.

“Even in a stripper’s thong?”

Ryan suddenly kisses him especially hard, and Brendon smiles against his lips. Ryan doesn’t say  _ no _ , and it was the comment from Gabe about the lingerie that made Ryan’s mood change. Maybe, Brendon thinks, that’s what Ryan wants—from earlier that night, he wanted to have seen him try on the thong and stockings. Just the thought of it made Ryan act different. That must be it, Brendon decides. Ryan got turned on by the idea of him in lingerie, and he’s just too bashful to admit it. Of course he is.

And all of a sudden, Brendon knows exactly what he wants to do for Ryan for his Christmas present this year.

<<<<<>>>>>

Ryan’s just putting away laundry when he finds it.

In the back left corner of Brendon’s underwear drawer.

A lacy, hot pink thong all crumpled up and tucked away.

The bright color of it catches Ryan’s eye, and he pulls it out all the way to see if his suspicions are correct. And yes, yes they are. There he stands, holding a pair of women’s underwear from underneath a stack of his boyfriend’s boxers, and he’s frozen. His heart pounds in his chest, but he’s not quite sure what to make of it. What does this mean? Where did this thong come from and why does Brendon have it? Is Ryan supposed to know it’s there? Who does it belong to? Has Brendon been with someone else? A woman? Was it right behind Ryan, in their bed?

Before he knows it, his hands start to shake and he feels nauseated with jealousy. Brendon wouldn’t cheat on him, would he? Ryan’s thought him to be happy in their relationship, satisfied all around—but maybe Ryan’s been blind. Maybe there is someone else, someone else doing more for Brendon than Ryan can, and Ryan’s just found her underwear amongst Brendon’s things. He tries to think of excuses to make for Brendon, any reason why he would find a thong hidden away, but he can’t take his mind off the idea of Brendon sleeping with someone else. All at once, he’s teeming with anger, hurt, jealousy, and deep, resounding sadness that seems entirely unsolvable.

And of course, at that moment, he hears Brendon enter the doorway of the bedroom. “Hey, Ryan, I was wondering if maybe you would want to go out for dinner tonight? I just don’t really feel like cooking, and—” Brendon rambles, in the exuberant way he tends to.

Ryan turns around, clearly still holding the thong. “Brendon,” Ryan says, and is surprised by how quiet and shaky his voice sounds, “what the fuck is this?”

Brendon’s face falls, and he gulps. “Ryan . . .” he says softly, and just from that, Ryan knows. He sinks down on the bed, heart feeling caught in his throat, and shakes his head.

“What’s her name?” Ryan asks through gritted teeth. “Who is she?”

There’s a beat of silence, then Brendon replies, “ _ What? _ ”

“Who is she?” Ryan repeats, louder this time. “Who’s fucking underwear is this, Brendon?”

“Not a woman’s,” Brendon says, after another hesitation. His voice is strained, all too serious for his normal demeanor. Ryan feels ready to burst into tears. Brendon really isn’t making this any better.

“Then whose?” Ryan asks, but it’s getting hard to talk with the growing lump in his throat. “And how long—” his voice cracks—”how long have you been sleeping together?”

“I’m—I’m not sleeping with anyone. It’s mine, Ryan.”

That, somehow, ramps up Ryan’s level of anger about the whole thing. “You expect me to believe that? I find women’s underwear hidden away in your drawer, and you have the audacity to stand there and tell me it’s  _ yours _ ?”

“Yes. I’m serious. Fuck, I shouldn’t have ever even bought it, I knew it was a bad idea—”

“You bought a thong,” Ryan interrupts, “. . . for yourself?”

“Yeah . . .” Brendon says, looking down to the floor.

Ryan scoffs, still in disbelief, although he’s beginning to form his doubts that Brendon’s lying. “I would’ve noticed if you were wearing a thong!” Ryan exclaims. He thinks he would’ve noticed earlier, too, if Brendon was sleeping with someone else, so something’s clearly not quite adding up.

“Well I didn’t want you to know! At least not yet, anyway—but, fuck, I would never cheat on you, ever, ever, you know that, Ryan.” Ryan looks down, feeling his eyes burn from so much emotional buildup so suddenly. He doesn’t want to look at Brendon, doesn’t want to see the mental images of him touching someone else. “Baby,” Brendon breathes, making his way over to sit beside Ryan on the bed, “I’m sorry I hid this from you. But there’s nobody else for me, I can promise you that. You’re all I need.”

“Then why do you have this?” Ryan cries, still clutching the thong.

“I just . . . I thought it would be pretty.”

“On some  _ girl _ ?”

“No. On me.”

“On you?” Ryan’s lower lip trembles, and he feels pathetic. “Do you wear it for someone else? Is there another man that wants to see you in a thong? How long have—” He cuts himself off at the sight of Brendon’s face, looking so concerned and incredulous; so easy for Ryan to read. His wide chocolate eyes behind his black-framed glasses give him a look of innocence. It’s almost enough for Ryan to completely fall for.

“Ryan,” Brendon says, placing a hand over one of Ryan’s, “I haven’t wanted to sleep with anyone else for years. And I don’t know if anybody wants to see me in a thong. It’s just me. I was just . . . curious.”

“Oh, I’m sure people would pay to see you in a thong,” Ryan grumbles.

Brendon huffs. “Nobody who matters to me.”

Ryan quirks an eyebrow at that. “And who is it that matters? Who do you want to look at you like that?”

“You! God, I don’t even think about other people. I just had this stupid, crazy fantasy that I would look good in lingerie, and I thought it would make me feel sexy, and in my wildest dreams I wished you would like it too. But I get it, it’s weird, I was totally wrong, and I can get rid of it if you want me to. Please believe me when I say you’re the only person I want to be with,” Brendon says.

The room falls silent for a moment as Ryan processes what Brendon is telling him. Brendon is fidgety beside Ryan, and he instinctively wants to do something to calm him. God, he can never stay upset with Brendon for very long anymore. He’s grown far too affectionate with him. “I wish you had told me,” Ryan says, voice low, and hesitantly presses a kiss to Brendon’s temple.

A small smile comes to Brendon’s face. “I, um, I thought maybe you would like it if I . . . dressed up for you. As, like, a Christmas present. I know it’s dumb, you don’t have to tell me.”

Ryan wraps an arm around the boy beside him. “It’s not dumb, but . . . where did you get the idea in your head that I want you in lingerie? Don’t you know I already think you’re perfect? You know you don’t have to do anything different for me, right?”

Brendon shrugs. “Do you remember, at Pete’s party, when Gabe was talking about the thong?”

“ . . . Yes,” Ryan answers, slowly. He remembers the whole conversation perfectly, from the way Brendon reveled in the attention, to the unmistakable possessiveness and arousal he felt at the idea of his lover in the outfit of a stripper. Brendon wasn’t supposed to know that, though. He wasn’t supposed to know that Ryan fantasizes about that exact thing in secret. To Ryan, Brendon dressing up in lingerie for him has always seemed so far-fetched, no more than something to fleetingly contemplate when walking through the mall, or seeing ads of women posing seductively for the camera. He always has wanted Brendon to be in that position, all for him, but it hasn’t been serious. That’s why Ryan doesn’t immediately follow.

“You were really attached to me for the rest of the night, so I thought, well,  _ something  _ must have turned you on at some point, and I don’t know, I just somehow thought maybe it could be related to the conversation with Pete and Gabe. But, it was a reach, and I was wrong, so I’ll get rid of it, okay? You don’t have to worry,” Brendon says.

“I—I’m not worried. You can—you can wear it. If you’d like to.”

“No, no, I’ll get rid of it. I don’t want you to think I’m weird, or do anything that will make you less attracted to me. I just wanted to be pretty for you.”

Ryan gulps. He can’t decide for a moment what’s worse—keeping Brendon in the dark and making him feel embarrassed over the whole thing, or admitting to him that he was right all along, and that Ryan wants, almost more than anything in the moment, to see Brendon try on the thong in his hand, and to take him on their bed right there. “B,” Ryan starts, “what if I wanted you to keep it?”

“Then of course I would,” Brendon replies. “But I’m sorry for assuming that’s what you wanted, I really shouldn’t have, I should’ve just asked—”

“Asked what?”

Brendon looks down, and runs his fingers over the seam of the thong Ryan holds. “If you want me to wear lingerie for you. And you would’ve said no, and I wouldn’t have—”

“I wouldn’t have said no.” Ryan can feel himself blush, and he feels even more embarrassed about that. He wants to be calm, composed, act like it isn’t a big deal that he’s kept a secret fantasy from Brendon for so long. “I, um. I want to see you. I think you’d look pretty, B. You’re so beautiful already . . .”

“You’re curious what I would look like? You think you might be into it?”

“I’ve known that I’ve wanted you to wear lingerie for me. For awhile. I just . . . haven’t talked to you about it. You’re right, y’know, about the party and everything. I should’ve just said something, I guess,” Ryan says, awkwardly avoiding eye contact with Brendon, as if avoiding his gaze would make talking easier. It doesn’t.

“So my Christmas present would’ve been good after all?” Brendon asks, more playfully.

Ryan nods.

“Well, that would be a relief, but now what am I supposed to get you? That was my whole plan!” Brendon says, laughing.

Fuck, Ryan feels stupid. In only a few days time, he could’ve had a lap full of Brendon in this little thong, if only he hadn’t just immediately assumed Brendon was  _ cheating  _ on him.

“Sweetheart, I wouldn’t complain if you didn’t bother with anything else. And, um, you don’t have to totally scrap this idea now.”

“What do you mean? Of course I do, you already know now, what’s the fun in that?”

“On Christmas, we can just act like I never found out, and you could still go through with whatever plan you had,” Ryan says. Just the thought of what Brendon might have in mind starts to arouse Ryan—Brendon could never disappoint him, not with this. “I’d love to see what you wanted to do for me, baby boy.” His hand is spontaneously drawn to Brendon’s thigh, and Brendon looks at him with his bottom lip caught between his teeth.

“I won’t worry about it anymore, then,” Brendon says, his voice taking on the breathy tone Ryan knows to be his (successful) attempt at seduction.

“Good boy,” Ryan says, and kisses his neck, the thong promptly falling to the floor and being completely forgotten about for the remainder of the night.

<<<<<>>>>>

Brendon’s having more fun than he’s ever had in years past Christmas shopping. It’s relatively rare for him to be able to pinpoint exactly what it is that Ryan wants as a gift, but this year, he knows precisely what he’s doing. That by itself makes his gift-giving endeavors a bit less stressful, as he doesn’t have to worry every second whether or not Ryan will actually like the product he’s purchasing for him.

It makes it even better that he feels like he’s shopping for himself, too. He takes to the internet in the weeks leading up to Christmas, and, without any of the lingering hesitations he had before, he goes all out on his shopping. Whenever he comes across a piece of lingerie, or even a whole set, that he thinks looks good, may it be in a catalogue, advertisement, or website, he estimates his size and orders it. Sure, it’s all for Ryan, but he indulges himself a little more than he needs to. But it’s his Christmas too, so he doesn’t even feel bad at all.

After Ryan confessed his fantasy, Brendon has felt proud of himself, confident, and somewhat smug that he has Ryan so figured out. It’s only when his online orders start coming in that he begins having second thoughts; questioning himself and his ideas for Ryan’s Christmas gift. When he had discreetly bought the pink thong for himself, he never even bothered trying it on, as if Ryan would magically know somehow if the fabric so much as touched his skin. Besides, wearing a thong is so close to being naked, anyway, that Brendon hadn’t been worried about how he would look actually wearing it. But now—now he’s ordered full sets of lingerie, and at least one of them he wants to try on for Ryan on Christmas. To prepare for that, he feels it’s absolutely necessary for him to try them on in advance.

The set he’s leaning towards is red and white. It consists of stockings, garters, panties, and a sheer baby doll to cover his abdomen and chest, lined with faux white fur. For Christmas, this set seems fitting, but Brendon’s never worn anything remotely like it before trying it on, locked up in the bathroom, Ryan out in the living room. Christmas is a few days away, but as Brendon looks at his reflection in the mirror, he feels incredibly unsure of himself.

Rationally, Brendon knows Ryan doesn’t care whether what he wears is traditionally considered masculine or feminine, in any circumstance. He knows it isn’t the principle of wearing lingerie branded as women’s that will impact how well Christmas morning goes. All of a sudden, though, he finds himself worried about his appearance; whether or not Ryan will be able to take him seriously in what he’s wearing. The outfit fits him well, better than expected, even, but Brendon can’t help but wonder if his lack of breasts makes him look ridiculous, or if he needs a pair of high heels to be able to pull off wearing the stockings. He worries Ryan won’t be as attracted to him in this get-up as either of them anticipated, and that Brendon will have failed this Christmas at pleasing Ryan—the absolute worse case scenario.

Brendon doesn’t have much time to over-analyze his appearance in the mirror, though, as Ryan calls for him, and he quickly needs to change into regular everyday clothes. He tucks the lingerie away in a place he’s sure Ryan won’t stumble upon it in the next few days—in a box, under his bathroom sink—and supposes everything will work out okay. Christmas is rapidly approaching, and this is the only thing Ryan asked for this year, Brendon tells himself. He’ll just have to get over his newfound self-doubt on Christmas morning, and then he won’t have to worry anymore. Even if the lingerie set doesn’t do anything more for Ryan than normal, Brendon has never known Ryan to do or say anything to make him feel guilty over such things. Especially when it comes to Brendon feeling self-conscious, Ryan is always loving and gentle with him.

And with that thought, Brendon is reassured enough to not lose any sleep over it in the few days leading up to Christmas.

<<<<<>>>>>

Ryan wakes up in bed completely alone, come Christmas morning. The sun is high in the sky, bright through the bedroom window, even through the curtain. He has no recollection of Brendon getting out of bed, or even waking up, so he guesses there was no event that he was supposed to wake up early for too. As he continues to awaken, it occurs to him that it’s Christmas morning, and there must be some reason related to that as to why Brendon has already gotten up.

On the other hand, though, Ryan’s surprised Brendon didn’t wake him up earlier. Usually, he’s so excited for Christmas morning, he wakes both of them up around eight in the morning to start opening presents. This year though, Brendon hasn’t done such a thing, and it makes Ryan a little suspicious, albeit thankful. The extra few hours of sleep are appreciated.

He gets ready for the day, not exactly rushing, before leaving the bedroom to find Brendon. The house smells of coffee, so he’s not concerned Brendon’s waiting for him or anything. He does feel excited to have Brendon open the gold watch that’s waiting for him under the tree, so a certain sense of anticipation does build while he’s in the shower.

When he ventures out into the living room to really start his day with Brendon, he’s met with an unexpectedly under-dressed boy patiently awaiting him. Brendon’s wearing but a silk robe, the end reaching the floor behind him, and a knot tied around his waist to sinch it closed..

“Good morning, baby,” Brendon says, sauntering hope to Ryan. Brendon rises on his toes to give him a deep, long kiss, right on the mouth. Ryan’s hands automatically find their way to Brendon’s waist, kissing him back, instantly foment to simply make out as long as Brendon wants.

“Good morning to you too,” Ryan breathes, as soon as their lips part by a few inches.

Brendon stays pressed up against Ryan to ask, “Are you ready to open some presents?”

Ryan rests his forehead against Brendon’s. “Not as long as I have you here, just like this. I don’t want anything else.”

Brendon pouts. “But what about everything you have to open today?”

Ryan casts a quick glance across the room where their Christmas tree stands, and his eyes widen in shock. Under the tree, there’s a sea of wrapped presents, significantly more than they have had in years past. Ryan certainly didn’t buy enough individual gifts for Brendon to account for the sheer amount of presents he’s seeing, which he momentarily feels bad about, until he realizes he can’t imagine how Brendon came up with so many different things to buy for him this Christmas.

“What the hell did you get for me, B?”

Brendon smirks. “You’ll see. But . . .” He bites his lip and looks up at Ryan, far too sultry for anything in his next stammer to be innocent.

“But what?” Ryan asks, pulling the boy even closer. If Brendon wants sex immediately, Ryan won’t hesitate to give that to him. If all Brendon wants for Christmas is for Ryan to take care of him in bed, Ryan is happy to do so for him.

“I want to make sure you like everything I bought you, so I want you to look at something first,” Brendon says, taking one of Ryan’s hands.

“Something to show me?”

“Mm-hmm. Bedroom,” Brendon says, leading the way. Ryan’s eyes are drawn to his hips, seeming to sway more exaggeratedly than normal, and he can feel his cock twitch from that alone. He already knows that whatever Brendon has in store for him is going to be amazing. Brendon gestures for Ryan to sit on the bed, to which he doesn’t hesitate to comply.

“I know I’ve been kinda bratty lately,” Brendon continues, hands moving slowly—excruciatingly slowly—to undo the knot that’s holding the robe on him, “but I want to be good for you now.” He begins opening the fabric of the robe, slipping out one shoulder at a time. “I want to be pretty for you.”

Ryan feels his stomach drop, feels himself get a little light headed, at what Brendon reveals himself to be wearing under the robe. Ryan fully expected him to be completely naked, but somehow, the panties and stockings and flowing top Brendon’s wearing are even better.

“Holy fuck,” Ryan says. Brendon sways his way on over to him until he’s close enough for Ryan to reach out and touch.

“Do you like it, baby?” Brendon asks.

Ryan can’t help but touch him; he runs his hands up Brendon’s thighs, over the lace on his ass and hips, toying with the fur at the end of the fabric around Brendon’s abdomen. “You have no idea, sweetheart.”

“Do you want me?” Brendon says, teasingly pulling down his panties by a few inches, circling his hips so enticingly. Brendon’s cock is hard and leaking, so visibly throbbing through his panties, leaving a little dark wet spot through the red fabric near the elastic waistband. Ryan can hardly stand it.

“You’re so perfect. I want you so bad,” Ryan groans.

“I bet you want to fuck me, don’t you?” Brendon whispers. He bends slightly at the waist to cup Ryan’s cock through his pants. “I know I’d love to be able to feel you in me right now.”

Ryan sighs and pulls gently on the backs of Brendon’s thighs. He needs to get Brendon in his lap, now. “I can fuck you as much as you want, baby boy.”

Brendon resists Ryan’s guiding hands, backing away from him. Ryan feels a pang of complete sexual frustration course through him. “It’s a little early for that, though, don’t you think? You got all dressed and everything, and I don’t want to ruin that yet. And I have so many other things for you to open now . . .” Brendon says.

“Brendon, the amount that I don’t care about any of that right now must be unfathomable to you.”

“But I have so much more to try on for you,” Brendon says with a pout.

“I don’t want you to change a goddamned thing. You want to be good for me, don’t you?”

Brendon nods. “Yes, but I . . .”

“Then I want you to get over here and just think about what you want right now, B. Tell me what you want, sweetheart. I know how turned on you are, and you’ve been so good for me.”

Brendon blushes. He straddles Ryan’s lap, facing him, exactly where Ryan wants him to be. “I want your cock,” Brendon breathes. “Please, I’m sorry for teasing you.”

“I’m going to give you everything you want,” Ryan says. He gently flips them around, having Brendon lay flat on the mattress, so he can slip out of his own pants. Brendon’s the peak of seduction, looking at him with drooped eyelids, plump lips, dressed in an outfit more gorgeous than anything Ryan could ever fantasize about. “Fuck, you’re beautiful. You’re the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen. Such a good boy for me.”

Brendon lets out a low whine, and Ryan wonders how he’s ever going to last, with Brendon looking the way he does and making sounds like that. Ryan grabs a bottle of lube out of the bedside table, and Brendon spread his legs without Ryan saying a word. Brendon’s so hard, and he throws his head back and moans the moment Ryan touches his thigh. He’s reactive, submissive, and obedient—just how Ryan likes him to be on occasions like this. It’s all feeling a little bit different, though, than ever before. Ryan feels so eager, so desperate to take Brendon, he doesn’t feel like he’s the one in the power position at all.

He needs to slow down.

Ryan stops for a moment to kiss Brendon’s neck, sucking little marks into the skin, and he reaches a hand down to feel Brendon’s cock through his panties. Brendon whimpers, his hips bucking up into Ryan’s hand. “You like getting all dressed up for me? You like being my pretty boy?” Ryan murmurs against Brendon’s skin.

“Please,” Brendon whines, squirming beneath him.

“You like when I touch your pretty little panties? Does that feel good? You must want to come, don’t you, sweetheart?”

“You’re going to make me come just like this,” Brendon pants. “Please, I want you to fuck me.”

Ryan pulls his hand away from Brendon’s cock. He doesn’t want his boy to come yet—he doesn’t want him to come at all until he’s been thoroughly pleasured. Ryan spreads Brendon’s legs further to begin fingering him, simply pushing the panties aside to reveal his hole. Two fingers slip in quite easily, and Ryan immediately feels a little suspicious.

“Please, Ryan, fuck me. Please, I’m all ready for you.”

“You didn’t get yourself off this morning, did you?” Ryan asks, curling his fingers inside Brendon.

“No, no, you didn’t give me permission, but I fingered myself, Ryan, I couldn’t help it. I need your cock,” Brendon moans.

“You’re so good to me, such a good boy,” Ryan says. He pulls out his fingers to lube up his own cock. It takes effort to not come just from stroking himself a few times, and it’s all Brendon’s fault. Ryan groans as he sinks his cock into Brendon; he feels so good, so perfect. Brendon winds his legs around Ryan’s waist, and finds he can’t wait any longer to start fucking Brendon for real, thrusting into him, making the boy moan and the mattress creak.

Just when Ryan’s having to try his hardest to not come inside Brendon embarrassingly fast, Brendon cries, “Oh fuck, oh fuck, you’re making me come.” Ryan slows a little bit to watch Brendon’s orgasm beneath him. His body shakes as come steadily behind to soak through his panties, leaking up onto his stomach, pooling there as he settles down. Brendon’s legs begin to fall from around Ryan, weakened from his orgasm, but Ryan keeps a hand on one of his thighs to steady him. Ryan tries to fuck him a little more gently, not wanting to make him feel the pain of oversensitivity, but he’s already so close to coming.

Brendon’s eyes stayed rolled back in euphoria, eyelids fluttering. All it takes is one final glance down Brendon’s body, at his see-through baby doll and his come-soaked panties, to make Ryan come, hips jerking against Brendon’s skin.

They’ve both worked up a sweat, Ryan notices, as he pulls out. His whole body feels limp and exhausted, which Brendon is reflecting perfectly before him, unmoving on the bed and breathing heavily. Ryan can’t find the strength or motivation to put effort into anything other than laying beside his lover at the moment, which is precisely what he does.

“Merry Christmas,” Brendon mumbles, rolling over to press his face into Ryan’s neck. “I need a change of underwear.”

Ryan reaches for his own pair of boxers that he left at the foot of the bed, and hands them over to Brendon.

“Thanks,” Brendon says. “I can’t believe you made me ruin this outfit already. I don’t think come stains are going to come out too easily from these.”

Ryan hums indifferently. It’s totally worth it, in his opinion. “I’m sure there’s someone who would be willing to buy a new pair for you,” he says.

“Well, you don’t really need to. There’s, um, a ton for you to open under the tree. If you want.”

“Oh, I see,” Ryan says. “You just bought a bunch of lingerie for yourself this year, didn’t you?”

“I thought you would like it. Especially if you liked this. I was a little worried . . .”

“You don’t have a thing to worry about, my love. You know, this might be the best Christmas you’ve given me yet,” Ryan says.

“Really?” Brendon says, opening his eyes to look up at Ryan.

“Don’t act surprised. You knew I would love this.”

“I guess so,” Brendon says.

“Well, you were right,” Ryan says, and presses a soft kiss to Brendon’s cheek.


End file.
